


I’ve Got Soul, But I’m Not a Soldier

by kajakauf013



Series: Marvel AU Collection [6]
Category: Marvel
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Anxiety, Awkward Silences, Blood, Breaking and Entering (kind of), Candles, Confusion, Embarrassment, Gen, Guilt, Medical Experimentation, Mental Health Issues, Mention of Possible Seizure, Metal Drilling into the Body, Mysterious Metal Objects, Nightmares, Paranoia, Pentagram, Salt, School Routine, Sleep Depravation, Spying, Violence, Wires, cursing, familial death, guest appearances from Steve Rogers Bucky Barnes Gambit and Tony Stark, gunfire, searching for family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-15 03:27:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12312864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kajakauf013/pseuds/kajakauf013
Summary: 20071013A look into some of the friends you need when things get rough, as well as some really disappointing family members that you are better off without.





	1. Dreams Aren’t What They Used to Be

Date: Classified

Working with James Buchanan Barnes, also known more commonly as Bucky, has never stopped being a strange experience. It had been a few years since his last stint in cryo and Steve Rogers had begun to worry about his friends’ health. 

Before you ask, yes I know, Bucky has the (relatively) same healing ability as Captain Rogers, but it wasn’t his physical health that was in question. He had been having issues sleeping for months, mostly due to nightmares and his ever-present anxiety. Given is history that isn’t exactly surprising. 

Which is where I come in. 

Captain Rogers thought I could use my healing abilities to calm Bucky’s brain and I was willing to give it a try. Even Bucky agreed, evidently he missed a good nights sleep enough to trust someone he’d never met with, and I quote, “Witch-y healing powers” to go with his friends idea.

That is how I wound up in an apartment located somewhere in the vicinity of New York state. 

No, I’m not going to tell you where, leave the old dudes alone. They get into enough trouble on their own, even with people not knowing their location. It’s a nice place, open lay out, in a rather quiet neighborhood. 

Bucky was sitting at the kitchen table, Steve making introductions that quickly lapsed into awkward silence. Bucky’s not much of a talker, neither am I when it comes to work, or in this case experimentation might be a better word. Steve excuses himself to the living room as I pulled up a chair over so I could sit in front of Bucky. 

It was becoming more awkward by the minute and I didn’t want to stand in front of the former assassin while trying to heal his brain. I’m not exactly intimidating in my five foot five frame, but I didn’t want to make it any more uncomfortable than it already would be.

I took a few moments to explain how my healing process works, that I would need to place my hands on his head to get it to work. Also that my palms would emit a faint golden glow as well as become slightly warm, and that Bucky shouldn’t feel any form of pain. He looked at me like I was insane when I told him that in order to heal him (or his mind in this case) I would be absorbing the damage into myself, healing it, and then transferring that healed tissue back to him. 

That is the usual reaction I get anyway, so it wasn’t shocking, but it was surprising that he still didn’t want to call the whole thing off.

Everything started like expected, hands on his head I slowly started working my way through his mind, healing any tissue damage that I was able. I had closed my eyes to concentrate when I started getting flashes of what must have been the nightmares keeping him awake at night. 

Cold nights, gunfire, the overwhelming scent of blood nearby. 

Then things started to get worse, more violent. Pain started coming in randomly, bullets throughout the years? Electricity surrounding my skull followed by numbness at the back of my mind. A vague confusion started after a few minutes, then an intense cold, followed by pins-and-needles in my left arm.

I woke up then, disoriented and not quite sure where I was. 

A few seconds of getting my bearings told me I was on the floor, no memory of how I got there. The only thing I could really see was the underside of the kitchen table, Steve’s shoes and Bucky kneeling down with a concerned look on his face. 

Sitting up and getting off the floor helped me feel less like an idiot, though the mounting embarrassment was inevitable. Bucky helped me back into my chair, Steve made tea because no one really knows what to do when self healing mutants black out in their kitchen.

The tea was appreciated none-the-less as I asked Bucky how he felt. He managed an almost whole sentence.

“Lighter, kind of.”

Which was more words than I was expecting, with the awkward silence only slightly less heavy than before. 

I’ll call that success.

I asked him to see how he sleeps over the next few days and to have Steve call me if his nightmares get any worse. He agreed, reluctantly at Steve’s urging, and I was out the door soon after feeling like I’d aged a few years in their kitchen.

Steve would later tell me Bucky felt guilty for asking for help to begin with. 

Apparently he also kept his eyes open while the healing happened and was able to see the look on my face his memories caused before I fell out of the chair. That didn’t help his guilt, but when his nightmares came back about a month later he didn’t put up a fight when I came back to heal him again.

The second healing lasted longer, but I still stop by once every few months to check up on them both. There aren’t anymore awkward silences and I’ve even managed to see Bucky smile once or twice.

I’m glad to be able to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the date reads as classified at the top because I don’t have an exact date when these things take place. The only hints my mind has given is that they happen when Bucky is trying to be a normal person again and a vague flapping hand gesture, which really is no help at all. (Thanks brain)


	2. You’re Running Out of Places to Hide From Me

Date: 20070919

It had been a few months since Evie and I had arrived at Xavier’s school. Adjusting had been a bit of a challenge at first. No longer being near my family, but also knowing that they would be safe was both heartbreaking and a burden that had been lifted from my shoulders. At least I still had Evie. 

Plus now that the routine of school was back I was also meeting new people from all over the world and being distracted by class work and deadlines was more helpful than ever. 

Fall was here already when I noticed that Kajak was getting restless and staying further away than usual. 

She’d been really helpful when we’d first arrived, always ready to travel with me in shadows until I could keep going for hours when a few minutes had been my limit before. And while she didn’t always volunteer to be Evie’s punching bag, she would convince others to help Evie learn to control her strength while healing any injuries this inevitably caused. 

So I was starting to get concerned and I told Evie what had been on my mind.

We had decided to find Kajak and ask what was going on when she beat us to it. We went up to the library, into a back corner where we could talk with at least some form of privacy. Kajak asked me if I was able to use my gift to locate a person. I had never tried to do that specifically, but I had an idea on how I might be able to and I was definitely up for a challenge. 

We borrowed a map of the U.S. from the library and headed up to my and Evie’s room. It is a cozy place, even if our styles are a sharp contrast, but most importantly there is enough floor space for my idea. The map was rolled out, Kajak sat at its head and I laid down a circle of salt around them. After that was set up I also placed five candles around the salt circle, with the point being directly in front of me.

I know, I know, sounds very ‘witchy”.

While that is actually one of my favorite aesthetics, I do actually have a reason for the salt and candles. 

My gift lets me see relationships between people, when I focus on one person in particular everything goes dark and threads appear around them. These threads come in many different colors and they tell me the nature of those relationships. They always lead out and away, making an intricate web that can stretch over the horizon. 

This is where the salt circle comes in, it should allow me to trace those threads to a place on the map, since Kajak and it are ‘contained’ by the salt. (And the candles should help me concentrate, and let’s face it they set the perfect mood, don’t judge me)  
I explained that on the way up to the room, Kajak is sitting in the circle looking confused while Evie helps lay down the salt and I light the candles. After everything is set up Evie locks the door and I sit on the floor trying to clear my mind. Kajak said that the person she is looking for is her father, but she hasn’t had any luck despite having his name and the Internet to help. 

I look into the circle, my mind focused, and my legs only slightly numb from sitting on the floor too long. 

There is a white flash on the periphery of my vision and the room around Kajak, the map, and the circle goes dark. The threads slowly come into focus, most of them blue and purple, occasionally a red or yellow makes an appearance. 

The two most distinct threads are silver, leading to both Evie and myself, since we are physically in the room. After a few moments most of the strings that had been floating in the air shift and stab into different places on the map. 

The ones that don’t are those people not located in the U.S., and as I concentrate further I can see the faint impression of invisible lines that go straight up as well. 

Not quite sure what that means, but we can look into it later. Right now I’m concentrating on finding one color in particular, bronze, and quickly find it. My finger traces the bronze thread, it almost quivers in response as I find where it lands on the map.

New Orleans, Louisiana.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first real “effort” to write from a different characters perspective, so I hope you enjoy the change of pace (and less cussing) that comes with looking through Willow’s eyes. 
> 
> And yes, this part does have a date so you can get a reference of when it happens. In this story I will post the time frames to help make them easier to keep track of.


	3. Like a Bullet Through a Flock of Doves

Date: Classified

I am seriously thinking about getting a different job. 

Not just for the classic ‘change of pace’ or getting a ‘more productive work environment,’ nope. I just really need get away from working for (the now disbanded) S.H.E.I.L.D., Stark Industries, hell even going back to Xavier’s school is sounding horrible these days. You want to know why?

It’s things like this.

Today was my day off, fuck it, for once I had plans. All I wanted to do was go to the book store, then horde myself away at home, curl up in a blanket, cup of tea in hand, and enjoy the day. Did I get to do any of those things?

Take a guess.

Hint: the answer is no.

It’s with these bitter thoughts in my head that I find myself running through one of New York states fine cities, being pursued by…something. What that something is, I have no idea, didn’t get the best look before I heard it approaching and my instinct to run took over.

Whatever it is, it sounds metallic and jet propelled in nature, I’m thinking jets due to how fast it is gaining on me. Weaving through streets doesn’t seem to affect its course, people are noticing me running by them but aren’t panicking. So chances are whatever is following me is either invisible or small enough that normal humans aren’t able to detect it.

Fun times.

While my mind was still trying to figure out what the hell this thing could be my body was still moving forward, until it wasn’t, of course. I had managed to find my way into an alley when it hit the side of my head, forcing me into the nearest wall where I then crumpled to the ground in agony. 

The thing was giving out a high pitched whine now and it felt like it was drilling into my skull.

The shield that’s always surrounding my brain did it’s job at keeping the drill from going any deeper, but it also wasn’t pushing the thing out of my skull like I wanted it to, either.

This should have been the first warning that something was massively wrong, but I was preoccupied at the time.

I could hear another one of the things approaching, so I gave up on figuring out what was wrong with my shield for the moment to get myself farther away. That only worked for a few minutes until the second thing found me as well.

At least this one I was able to see, it was small, sleek, and metallic. There was a faint humming being emitted by it, which the one that was already attached responded to.

Probably giving the newcomer our location, the bastard.

Instead of running any further I threw up my shield as the metallic thing approached, or well. I tried to. I felt my shield go up and stabilize, but it fell apart after a few seconds. In that amount of time the metallic thing attached itself to the other side of my head, burying itself into my skull but not further.

Nothing happened for a minute as my head adjusted to the new found pain, but then the metallic things shifted and popped open, allowing other things to come out and also dig into my skull. 

These things aimed for just behind where my eyes sit and my eyesight was suddenly slightly blurred and tinted blue round the edges. I managed to catch my reflection in a shop window, the bits coming out of the metal things resembled some kind of wiring, which could not be good.

Instead of panicking, which I kind of still think anyone in this situation should have the right to do, I tried to calm the fuck down and think of the options I had available.

I could call someone like Stark who may be familiar with whatever this is, even if he isn’t exactly near where I am he could get here eventually. I could call Evie and have her try to rip whatever this is out of my skull, not a fun option but a possibility. I could try to find the local remnants of S.H.I.E.L.D., though I’d have to verify if they were trustworthy enough first. 

I can feel the headache that has nothing to do with drills already starting to form when I close my eyes and push my palms into my eye sockets like that will help when I see it. In the right hand corner of my peripheral vision. 

Blinking in the darkness of my eyelids, mocking me like the little shit it is.

O REC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, were back to the Classified time frame. This one is even less accurate than the last, my mind literally doesn’t have a frame of reference other than “after the last one”. It takes place some time after Captain America Civil War as far as I can tell.


	4. Continues to Visit Previously Unexplored Regions of the Suck

Date: Classified

Sometimes I really hate technology. Sure, medicine is nice, the Internet is very useful, smart phone cameras are way more convenient than old Polaroid’s. One thing that’s not convenient though is touch screens when you know looking into your contacts will feed information directly into the hands of an unknown enemy. 

Before you ask, no, I don’t have Siri or whoever activated to respond to my voice because it’s creepy.

Do I regret that? Right now, sure. A little bit.

That’s why I find myself stumbling through a city, eyes closed, following the faintest hint of a scent of someone that I know lives here. Wow, this horribly long and awkward walk makes me miss my flip phone and the age of memorizing all of your friends phone numbers. 

Fuck, this is annoying.

It’s annoying the whole way towards my goal, the general direction of two familiar scents, which are slowly becoming stronger as I get closer to their apartment. Luckily they don’t have a doorman to wonder why an apparent day drinker is fumbling around the front of the building, the lobby, or the elevator up to their floor.

I shuffle my way to the correct door before knocking loudly. There isn’t any response or sound of movement from inside, so I try turning the doorknob. Surprisingly it opens, so I slowly push on the door yelling into the (empty?) apartment that I’m not breaking and entering. 

“Hello? I’m just looking for my idiot friends whom I know live here and why the fuck is the door unlocked, but no one answered, guys?”

It’s only after my little tirade that I get any sort of response, which is in the form of a disgruntled huff and heavy boots approaching where I am by the now closed front door.

“Bucky, nice to see you, kind of.” I say, opening my arms and smiling in the direction I’m pretty sure he’s standing. It’s a few seconds before I hear a response.

“What the hell happened with your face?”

“You have such a way with words. I’m not sure what’s with my face, other than whatever ‘it’ is seems to be recording-hence why my eyes are closed.”

At that I hear Bucky moving around the entry way, then I feel a hand on my shoulder that guides me further into the apartment. It stops when I hear a chair being dragged across linoleum, but then comes back to maneuver me into said chair. 

I sit with what little dignity the situation leaves me with. Bucky goes to another room but comes back, I can hear him tapping on his phone as he sits in another chair at the table.

“Steve, you’re friend showed up at the apartment and she needs help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day drinking is not encouraged, but if you do, please stay at home and don’t drive.


End file.
